WOTD: Concupiscence; Fic: Buy You A Drink, Doctor?

Feb 13, 2006 14:55


Word of the Day: Concupiscence

concupiscence \kon-KYOO-puh-suhn(t)s; kuhn-\, noun:

Strong desire, especially sexual desire; lust.

Story: Buy You A Drink, Doctor?
Author: WMR
Rated: PG13
Characters: Nine/Rose/Jack
Summary: What happens when Jack finally manages to buy the Doctor that drink.



Buy you a drink, Doctor?

Kyoto. Japan. It’s as good a place as any.

He lets the Doctor do his thing, showing off his knowledge of Japanese history and culture, dazzling them with little-known facts and occasionally putting a dampener on things by pointing out that something Rose especially admired won’t be around for very much longer. This gets blown up accidentally in 2257. That’s demolished to make way for a car park in 2145. Right.

Finally, though, he gets his opportunity. They’re all a little weary from walking around in the heat. So, when he sees a shot bar, he seizes the chance. “How about we take the weight off our feet for a bit?”

“Sounds good to me!” Rose grins, looking relieved and not about to be denied her chance of a rest.

The Doctor shrugs. “If that’s what you want. I mean, if you’d rather be sitting inside in some dingy dive drinking crappy beer instead of enjoying the cultural magnificence of one of the most beautiful cities in the Orient...”

“Shut it, Doctor!” Rose protests, thumping his arm. “I’ve had enough of culture. Right now all I want is to put my feet up and have a drink.”

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor gestures to Jack to lead on. “Go ahead, Captain. Let’s see what this place is like. But I’m warning you, if you disappear with a geisha we’re not waiting for you.”

That’s far from what he has in mind, though he’s not telling the Doctor that. He leads the way inside. It’s not bad; dark, true, and not very busy, although it is mid-afternoon. He fumbles in his pocket. Good; he still has some Japanese currency. And currency he’s acquired himself, not from the supply the Doctor produced before leaving the TARDIS. He’s not going to lose this one on a technicality.

He gestures towards a table set in an alcove. “Why don’t you two grab that while I get the drinks? What d’you want?”

Rose shrugs. “Would I like sake?”

He’s not sure. He’s been pretty good at anticipating some of her tastes in the months he’s been with the two of them, but the Doctor’s still much better at predicting what she’ll like or dislike. “They have Western beer,” he points out instead of answering her.

“You might,” the Doctor says. “It’s an acquired taste, though.”

“I’ll try yours,” she tells the Time Lord impishly.

No; he’s not having that. Again, he won’t give the Doctor any excuse to say he hasn’t fulfilled his side of the bargain.

“I’ll get you both,” he tells Rose. “Doctor?”

The Doctor shrugs. “We’re in Japan. Might as well go for the full cultural experience. Which,” he adds, “is what we were doing outside.”

Rose rolls her eyes as Jack heads for the bar. A couple of minutes later, he’s heading back with three sakes and a bottle of beer he vaguely recognises as German, but one that would be sold in England.

At the table, he holds up his glass. “Kampai!”

A faintly-raised eyebrow is all the response he gets from the Doctor for revealing that he knows the local toast. But they both clink glasses with him; the Doctor returns the toast with something longer in Japanese, while Rose struggles to pronounce the word.

Rose doesn’t particularly like the sake, and is happy to switch to the beer after a couple of sips. With a smothered grin, Jack pushes her glass over to the Doctor. Making doubly sure of his side of things.

Stage one, successfully complete.

********

Back in the TARDIS, he bides his time. Waits until the Doctor’s set the TARDIS moving, taken them into the Vortex. And then he makes his move.

Walking slowly, suggestively, in a motion he knows has been described as prowling, he approaches the Doctor. The Time Lord looks up from the console and, seeing him, seems almost startled. Deer caught in the headlights, Jack thinks.

But that expression’s hidden very quickly. Now looking long-suffering, almost bored, the Doctor says, “Something you want, Captain?”

“Just thought I should point out that I’ve fulfilled my side of our bargain, Doctor. And now it’s your turn.” And he grins wolfishly.

“Bargain?” The Doctor’s expression is pure innocence and bemusement.

“You remember. Back in Cardiff.” And Jack’s still grinning, triumph lurking at the back of his expression. He knows the Doctor’s near-perfect memory. He knows very well that the Time Lord hasn’t forgotten. He’s only pretending ignorance. “You said I had to buy you a drink first.”

“Ah.” Enlightenment dawns in the Doctor’s face. “But I didn’t specify what came after, did I?”

Rose, Jack notices, is watching this exchange with interest, curiosity and a certain degree of alarm. He moves over to her, sliding his arm briefly around her shoulders. “Trust me,” he murmurs. “You’ll enjoy this. I promise.”

She meets his gaze, hers questioning, but then she evidently decides to go along with it. She knows him well enough by now to be sure that he wouldn’t hurt her. And he’s pretty sure that includes understanding that he’d never try to get between her and the Doctor.

“Well, considering we were watching Rose here cuddling and schmoozing with Mickey at the time...” He gives the Doctor an exaggerated leer.

“So it’s a hug you want?” The Doctor sounds bored, as if he’s finding this very tiresome. All too tediously human for his liking.

He moves away from the console and comes closer to Jack, his expression long-suffering.

Jack smiles. “That’ll do for starters. But we both know you were talking about more than that.”

“That’s all you’re getting.” And he wraps his arms around Jack in a semblance of a hug, a gesture that’s more about show than a real embrace.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d welsh on a bargain, Doctor,” Jack says, tut-tutting.

“I did no such thing! That’s what you asked for; that’s what you got.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Still predatory, Jack refuses to allow the Doctor to move away. “But if you’re afraid...”

“Afraid?” The Doctor laughs, ridiculing the idea. “What you sayin’ I’m afraid of?”

“Lowering your superior Time Lord self enough to associate with a mere human,” Jack says. Dropping his tone, speaking quietly, huskily, “Kissing me and realising that maybe you like it more than you think you should.”

And the Doctor looks genuinely taken aback by that. Then his expression clears and he shakes his head. “Kissing you? Why should that scare me? Now, bore me, maybe...”

“Nah.” Jack folds his arms and holds the Doctor’s gaze. “I think you’re scared, all right.”

“This is ridiculous. I haven’t got time for this.” And he’s about to turn away.

“Time? You have all the time in the universe, Time Lord.” And Jack gives him a challenging smile.

“I think Jack’s right, Doctor,” Rose says from her position just below the console rail. “I think you are scared.”

Now he looks hunted. He glances from Jack to Rose and back to Jack. Then, with a long-suffering sigh, he says, “All right. If you insist.” And he steps closer, stands still and waits.

Jack knows what he’s expecting. And that’s why he does something completely different.

The Doctor’s expecting a kiss from the practised seducer, the kind of kiss that starts and finishes with blazing passion, designed to force the same kind of response from the recipient. And he can tell by the look in the Doctor’s eyes that he plans to remain completely unmoved by it.

That’s not Jack’s plan.

Instead, he slides his palm along the Doctor’s cheek and just lets it rest there for several seconds. He holds the Doctor’s gaze, his own expression intent. And then, when he finally brings his lips to touch the Doctor’s, the kiss is butterfly-light. He’s pulling away before the other man has a chance to react at all.

And then he’s back, brushing his lips over the Doctor’s again in another light, gentle touch. Holding the Time Lord in place only by the faint pressure of his hand against his face, he leans back in for several more of these gentle, fleeting kisses. And then he judges it’s time for more, and he makes the next kiss deeper. Presses his lips harder against the Doctor’s. Lets his tongue slide forward, just enough to touch the edge of the Doctor’s mouth for a fraction of a second.

He knows it’s working. The Doctor hasn’t pulled away yet. And he’s caught that tiny catch in the other man’s breath that tells him that the Doctor’s getting turned on by this in spite of all his intentions to the contrary. I’ve got you, Doctor!

And then he’s back again, this time more insistent, but still gently, seductively persuasive. His lips part over the Doctor’s; he teases the Doctor’s lips apart, and the other man complies. He slides his tongue forward, tentatively asking for entrance, and the Doctor allows it.

And then, suddenly, the Doctor’s kissing him back. The pressure of lips against lips is mutual. The Doctor’s hands are at his back, holding him, closing the gap a little between their bodies. Their tongues are meeting, getting acquainted, becoming intimate.

When they finally break apart, they’re both breathless.

“Now, that’s what I call fulfilling a bargain, Doctor,” Jack says with a grin after a few moments.

And, to his very great satisfaction, for once the Doctor has no come-back at all. His eyes still hold dazed arousal. And there’s something in his expression that suggests capitulation.

Capitulation to what? To recognising that he’s attracted to Jack? Or more, perhaps? That he wants more? Maybe, even, capitulation to the idea that he doesn’t have to stay aloof, play the distant, uninvolved Time Lord any more.

Time to fulfil his promise to Rose. Without stepping away from the Doctor, he extends his hand to her. He glances at her as he does it. He’s a little concerned that she might be upset at what she’s just seen - the Doctor he knows she loves giving in to a passionate kiss with another man. With him. But she’s looking dazed herself. And he realises, to his delight, that she enjoyed watching the two of them together.

It’ll get better, Rose, he promises her silently as she approaches.

He slips an arm around her shoulders as she joins them. The Doctor is watching them both, his expression wary.

“Think Rose is feeling a little left out, Doctor,” Jack says, feeling a faint grin twitch at his lips.

And now the Doctor looks hunted again. But there’s also longing in his eyes...

Jack steps back, leaving Rose in front of the Time Lord. Go on, Doctor, you know you want to...

Rose stays where she is, looking a little uncertain. Then, suddenly, the Doctor moves. He cups her face between his palms. And then he bends his head and touches his lips to hers. Jack actually hears her breath catch as the Doctor comes closer.

Then they’re kissing, intimately, deeply, hungrily. A kiss of lovers too long denied the physicality of this embrace. He almost feels as if he’s intruding by watching. This is just so personal, so deeply intimate between them.

The Doctor looks as if he’s worshipping Rose. She looks as if she can’t get enough of him, as if, should she let go, she’d get swept off somewhere without an anchor, without anything to hold her to life. They are life and strength and sustenance to each other. They are each other.

Until, finally, they break apart. And he wraps his arms around her, enfolds her against him, and sighs, saying her name as he exhales.

And she says his name, too, a choke in her voice as she utters it, and Jack can tell the depth of the love that lies between them.

But, just as he’s about to walk away, to leave them to it - for, whatever the Doctor might have felt when kissing him, it’s nothing to the intensity of his love and need for Rose - a hand is extended to him.

He hesitates. Then a voice is added to the persuasion. “Jack.” The Doctor is looking at him. “Come here.”

Frowning, he approaches. Takes the hand in his. The Doctor’s fingers curl around his own. That surprises him. The Time Lord only holds Rose’s hand that way.

“Thank you.” The words are said sincerely and with emotion. And then, to his shock, he’s being kissed again. The Doctor is kissing him, willingly and with emotion. With what feels like love.

Then the kiss ends, and the Doctor’s looking at him, eyebrows raised. Head jerking. Towards Rose.

And Rose is watching him, an impish grin on her face. Waiting.

His breath catches. This is the other kiss he’s wanted so badly, for so long.

He raises his free hand to Rose’s face, sliding his palm along her cheek just as he did with the Doctor. And then touches his lips to hers in the same technique.

He loves them both the same. They deserve to be shown it the same way.

So he kisses her gently, lingeringly, lovingly, slowly building up to passion and intimacy. She responds to him, a little inexpertly at first, but quickly learning what he wants and being an eager pupil.

Long, amazing moments later, they’re breaking apart and gazing at each other. They don’t need to say anything. They know what this means. What they mean to each other.

And then the Doctor’s kissing Rose again, but they’re both holding him close to them, so he can let his lips trail along Rose’s throat, the Doctor’s neck, any exposed skin he can find. It’s sensual. It’s loving. It’s perfect.

Minutes later, the three of them are looking at each other, arms around each other, the memory of their shared intimacy in each other’s eyes. And they laugh.

It’s joy. It’s happiness. It’s knowing that the three of them are together, bound, inseparable.

And Jack will remember this moment for the rest of his life.

END

Dedicated to my two lovely betas, dark_aegis and nnwest, both firm advocates of the proposition that smooching opportunities should be afforded at every opportunity in fic.

x-posted to: time_and_chips, better_with_3
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